


Every Night the Same Encore

by Tabithian



Series: Soft as the Starlight in the Sky [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magical Girls, Canonical Character Death, Crack, Happy Ending, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 13:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4394246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Jason had known what the real price was going to be, he's pretty sure he would have told the damn cat to fuck off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Night the Same Encore

**Author's Note:**

> There's an [AU Idea Generator](http://www.springhole.net/writing_roleplaying_randomators/au-idea.htm) and it gave me the prompt about a quirky detective AU in a magical girl universe, and then this happened? (I am super sorry.)

If Jason had known what the real price was going to be, he's pretty sure he would have told the damn cat to fuck off.

But there had been that thing with Joker and the warehouse and Jason being the kind of idiot who had regrets all piled up, things he hadn't done, said, or should have, and now.

“Christ, yes, already, I get it!” Jason yells, crystal wand clutched tightly in one hand. “You can stop fucking nagging already!”

There's a delicate sniff, and then Mr. Meowface minces away, tail held high. (Apparently that's not his True Name, whatever the hell that means, but he doesn't think Jason's earned the right to learn it, and also he's an asshole.)

Jason sighs, looks back at the poor bastard encased in magical ice (fucking seriously, what is his life anymore) and prepares to use the – Jason shudders – fucking _Power of Love_ to free him.

Glares.

“You better fucking appreciate this, you asshole,” Jason mutters, closes his eyes and thinks of happy memories, the asshole's stupid smile and arm around Jason's shoulders and, _race you to Wayne Tower, Little Wing!_

He can feel the magic start up, warm, familiar now, swirling around him, senses the glimmers and shimmers of light through his closed eyelids, and raises his hand when the magic's reached its peak. Opens his eyes to a soft golden glow at the end of the wand, and raises it, lips pressed in a thin line.

_Now! Now, now, now, do it now!_

Jason shoots a look at the damn cat who just never stops nagging, perched up high on a tower of packing crates watching Jason intently. 

He's learned that if he mumbles the incantation things get weird – even more so – so he raises his voice and recites a load of bullshit some poor pre-teen should probably be saying instead. Something about love and friendship and blah, blah, blah.

There's a hesitation, maybe Jason's new found magic reconsidering having chosen him for this, and then the golden glow extends to the chunk of magical ice and the prisoner within.

Jason watches, breathing a mental sigh of relief when the ice cracks, light shining brightly through the cracks.

_Shield!_

Jason scowls, but does as he's told, bringing up his other arm and flicking his wrist just so, pale red magical shield popping up just as the ice containing Dick shatters, shards flying everywhere. He stumbles back a step from the force of it, stares at a particularly nasty looking shard that managed to penetrate the shield, jagged point inches from his face.

“The fuck? I thought you said this stupid shield could stop anything?”

 _He's getting stronger_ Mr. Meowface says, coming up beside Jason. Bats a paw at a ice shard on the ground next to him. _This is troubling news._

Jason stares down at the stupid cat, and sighs. Flicks his wrist again and the shield disappears, ice shard dropping to the ground with a hollow sound.

“Fucking great, now what?” he asks, and then Dick groans, starting to come to, and that's Jason's cue to get the hell out before the idiot realizes it's him, like he won't figure it out.

He stops to scoop up the damn cat and one of the little gold discs the villain had dropped before escaping, and then Jason's running. Headed for the nearest exit and ignoring the confused, “What happened?” coming from behind him.

********

So here's the thing about the Power of Love, and how it relates to Jason's powers. (God, he has fucking magical powers now, what the hell.)

There's more than one kind of love, it's not all rom/com movie happy endings, it's - 

_You humans, always confusing love for romantic love,_ Mr. Meowface is saying, pacing the length of Jason's shabby little apartment. _There's more than one kind of love in the world, you realize._

Jason knows, thanks. He actually paid attention in school, or no, okay. He actually read shit outside of school because Gotham's public schools were just a tad lacking. 

And Jason okay, Jason was interested in shit other than dealing with bullies or teachers who'd already written him and all the other kids like him off because they they came from poor backgrounds. Like they wouldn't amount to a damn thing no matter how hard they worked their asses off because of official statistics and fucking _Gotham_.

Also, he pays attention to the world, the people in it and the way they relate to one another, so yeah, Jason fucking knows.

And then there's Vicki Vale, nattering on about Gotham's new hero (so mysterious) fighting a new enemy (magical douchebag) who's managed to evade Batman and his people thus far.

A shot of Dick, emergency blanket around his shoulders at he sits on an ambulance's tailgate, EMTs fussing over him.

Because Jason's been in Gotham long enough like this for people to have caught wind of that damn incantation, and they assume that Jason's powers are fueled by romantic love. And since Jason just rescued Dick, Vicki Vale (and the rest of Gotham's hack reporters) are convinced there's some kind of love story between them in the offing, which - 

Ugh, no. No, no, _no_. 

“Wow, yes, I get it, we're stupid,” Jason says, because this is a cat he's talking to. “Want to tell me what the hell we're going to do about this bastard now?” 

Mr. Meowface sighs, which he knows Jason hates because it's really fucking unsettling and causes goosebumps to rise on Jason's skin.

“Okay, don't do that again,” Jason says, rubbing his arms. 

Mr. Meowface looks at him, and then the fucker deliberately sighs again, and Jason is off the couch and chasing the little shit around the apartment because magical cat or not, he's still an asshole.

********

“Fancy meeting you here,” Jason says, tries out a smile, lets his voice drop a little, smooth and just a bit -

“Nice. What do you want?”

Jason sighs, ignores Mr. Meowface's laughter and holds out a small cardboard box.

“If you're proposing, you'll have to ask Bruce for permission first.” A telling pause, and then, “...and my parents.”

Jason.

“God, you're such a little shit.”

 _Detective_ Drake ( _I got the promotion!_ ) smirks, leans back against the brick wall of his building. “You knew that when we met, and yet...”

And yet Jason keeps coming back to the asshole, why, he still can't figure out.

“You have any idea what this could be?” Jason asks, opens the box and pulls out a little metal disc, weird engraving on it neither he or that damn cat can decipher. “It might be important.”

Tim takes the proffered disc, turns it over in his hands, little frown forming on his face. “It looks vaguely familiar,” he says, runs a finger over one ridged edge. “Can I keep this? My dad's in town for a little bit, I can run this by him, see if he recognizes it.”

Jason looks at him, sees the tightness around his eyes at the mention of his father and it's on the tip of his tongue to tell him no, take the damn disc back and go to someone else who can help without it costing them.

Tim's family life is a goddamn mess, not helped by the fact that Bruce is still a bastard after everything, and Tim's parents weren't quite as dead as expected when their plane went down over the ocean when he was a kid, but whatever. (Look at Jason.)

Gotham's press doesn't really know what to make of Tim, supposedly orphaned at a young age and adopted into the Wayne family only for his parents to reappear years later, his life is like a goddamned soap opera, but none of them know what angle to go after first, which is kind of hilarious.

But Tim wouldn't have offered if he didn't want to, and from what he's told Jason, things are getting better on that front. Bruce and Tim's parents trying to get along for Tim's sake, now that they're all _family_. (When Tim's parents are in town long enough, that is, and no, Jason's not holding a grudge.)

“I'd appreciate that, actually,” Jason says, tosses the box to the side and starts walking towards Tim. “So, long time no see.”

Tim snorts, tucks the disc in the pocket of his hoodie and grins up at Jason. “Oh my God, and I thought Dick was bad at this.”

Because Dick is the kind of guy who'll try out pick-up lines on his damn partner, like he doesn't think Tim will shoot him one of these days.

“Shut it,” Jason says, hands coming to rest at Tim's hips. “You're a horrible person.”

“Takes one to know one,” Tim says, because he's been around Dick too damn long. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, leaning in. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Make me,” Tim says, that little smirk on his face, and.

Jason okay, Jason can't let that pass, and really, there's only one guaranteed way to make Tim shut up that works for Jason. (Them.)

 _You humans are disgusting_ , Mr. Meowface complains. _Do you have any idea how filthy your mouths are?_

********

“So how exactly do your powers work?” Dick asks him, head cocked to the side. “Because, I mean, it's flattering, just. I'm taken?”

The fact that Dick makes that last part a question...

“I will fucking punch you in the face,” Jason says, maybe not the witty repartee he should be using, but Jesus Christ, _no_.

“So...”

“For fuck's sake,” Jason growls, jabs Dick in the chest with a finger. “I do not _like_ -like you, okay? Not now, not ever. Do some fucking reading, Christ.”

And now Dick is staring at him, corners of his mouth twitching.

“God, I hate you,” Jason says, goes back to staring moodily out at Gotham. 

Mostly because he hates this stupid suit, hates having to scour Gotham for some fucking magical douchebag wearing pale reds shading into coral (and lighter) and golds and little splashes of white. (A few bows placed here and there.)

 _So pretentious,_ Mr. Meowface chimes in, curled up in the vent outtake and out of sight. _It's pink._

Jason has nothing against pink, just. Not conducive to being taken seriously when he's cracking faces open, okay. Gotham's thugs are a little close-minded like that, who knew? (Jason's working on fixing that, though.)

“Thanks, by the way,” Dick says, coming up beside him. 

Jason grumbles, slides a look at Dick, who keeps seeking Jason out like he's trying to make friends, trying to bring him into the Bat family fold. (Bruce has given up on trying to convince Dick otherwise, that Jason's a potential threat, unknown factor, who even knows, because Bruce, and also _Dick_.)

“You're a moron.”

Dick shrugs, like _yes, okay, that's a given, thank you._

“Ooh, hey,” Dick says, head cocked to the side which means one of the other Batkids or Oracle is talking to him. “You interested in stopping a jewelry story robbery? Robin and Batgirl are going to be there.”

Like he's asking if Jason wants to catch a movie with him and his friends.

“Bonding,” Dick says. “Through hitting people.”

What the hell, it's not like Jason's going to find the magical douchebag by brooding.

********

Bruce does.

********

“The hell,” Jason says, because.

 _Hmmm. This has never happened before,_ Mr. Meowface says, batting at magical douchebag's face. 

(As if he hasn't learned Bruce is a law unto himself, after all the time they've been in Gotham.)

All trussed up and ready to be shipped off to wherever magical douchebags like him go (Mr. Meowface wasn't that clear about it), and Jason.

 _He's not the only one,_ Mr. Meowface reminds him. _There will be others._

Of course there will, Jason knows. Like there's always a crackpot for Bruce and the others, some fucked up criminal for Tim to deal with. 

_It never fucking stops._

But there's Bruce standing a little ways away, cape pulled around him, a certain kind of tension to him.

“Hey, thanks,” Jason says, nudges Mr. Meowface away from the magical douchebag when he brings out the claws. “Saved me some work.”

Bruce is _staring_.

And, okay. It's not like Jason's made a grand declaration since coming back to Gotham, like, _Hey, assholes, guess who who has two thumbs and isn't dead anymore? This guy!_

Fucking Tim figured it out because Jason's powers can get a little explodey, and he didn't always have the hang of activating the damn shield in time. Jason bleeding over Tim's furniture and the little shit being a police officer who had access to a forensics lab and also the goddamn _Batcave_.

Also, the part where Tim was a creepy stalker during his formative years, so.

“Hey,” Jason says, thinking of Tim's frustrated face and sad eyes whenever Jason told him _No, the time's not right_ , like there's ever a good time to tell your family you aren't dead anymore and knowing how shitty he was being to everyone. It's been over a year since he came back. “How's Alfred doing?”

********

“I guess you won't be needing this, anymore,” Tim says, and holds up the gold disc Jason had brought to him a few weeks ago. There's a flash drive resting on top of it. “My dad found some interesting stuff on it.”

Jason makes a listening noise, a little, _go on_. 

“He says it sounds like a prophecy?”

And.

 _Ah. Yes,_ Mr. Meowface says. _That._

Jason closes his eyes, because that fucking cat. Almost as bad as Bruce.

"Er?”

“Mr. Meowface,” Jason starts, gives Tim a dark look when the asshole bites his lip, eyes bright with laughter. “Has been keeping secrets again.”

Tim just looks at him.

“He's a magical cat,” Tim says, with a completely straight face. “I'm pretty sure that's what they do?”

“Oh my God,” Jason says, “Shut up.”

********

_Being dead is. Well, Jason hadn't expected this, to be sure._

_Weird kind of glow, foggy. Lots of pink. Some sparkles._

Ugh, you humans, _a voice says._

_”The hell?”_

So many regrets, _it says, and Jason's eyes go wide because he can feel something, someone, poking through his memories._

_(Drags up one of that fucking stalker kid, hair in his face due to the wind, big blue eyes and a startled look on his face, not expecting Jason to catch him.)_

_“The fuck are you - “_

I'll make you a deal, an offer, _the voice says._

_Jason._

”What kind of deal?”

 _More images, moments plucked from Jason's mind, of him, his life before he fucked up and Bruce found him. Fucking_ Bruce _. Alfred, that asshole Dick. (The little stalker shit again, shy little smile and a quiet,_ I'm Tim, _and -_

A chance to address your regrets, _the voice says._ You do have so many of them after all.

Jason.

_”What's the catch?”_

_There's always a catch, always a price._

You will have to face the servants of darkness, _the voice says, and Jason sees –_ in his goddamn head _– faceless figures wielding magic and wreaking havoc, grotesque monsters doing their bidding, and people screaming, and running away, and Jason -_

_Jason fucking laughs, and laughs and laughs, because._

_”What the hell, sign me up then,” he says, like it's going to be any different from a normal day in his life._

  



End file.
